The Last Beat Of A Broken Star
by sammy-is-a-sassquatch
Summary: Derek wasn't fast enough. It was the one thought that was going to spin through the wolf's mind for the rest of time, and in his last few minutes, Stiles has to try and take the guilt away. It wasn't Derek's fault. The silver bullet wasn't his. But who the thing belonged to didn't matter - because now Stiles had to die. And where better to die than the arms of his favourite wolf?


Of course the big bad wolf was late, it was typical. After all the effort Stiles had went through, it was all in vain. He clutched his stomach, reeling in white hot pain. Fucking hunters with their stupid silver bullets. He stumbled again, spluttering before dropping to his knees. He watched his attacker sprint off in the other direction. Blood was already staining his hoodie and his hands. It didn't look good .Yet that would kind of be expected considering. But hey, he had an excuse for his lack of looks. He was just shot. That's life. He didn't expect that his would last much longer. He had never expected to die at seventeen though. He was already glancing around the dark trees while keeping pressure on the wound. His thoughts were whirling as his heart raced. Then he heard the voice. Not the voice he was used to, no this had a lighter, less gravely tone to it.

"Finally on time," Stiles blurted out with difficulty while he looked at Derek. Looked at how panicked he was, noticing how his breathing was fast and choppy as if he was oxygen deprived. "Stiles." Derek asked questionably looking downright broken. He probably couldn't believe it. Stiles had been shot. He had been shot and now Stiles was bleeding out right in front of him. Derek rushed to his side and pulled his arms round the boy. Stiles let a small groan escape his mouth. He would be a downright liar if he didn't admit this was the worst he'd ever felt. "Fuck no. No, no, no," Derek muttered. This couldn't be happening. This was Stiles. Dorky, annoying Stiles. He couldn't be dying. He couldn't.

"You need to keep pressure on that while I get you to hospital," Derek ordered with urgency even although he knew it couldn't change anything. He could see where the bullet had pierced and there was a slim chance to none that Stiles could survive this. But he had too. What would Derek's life be without his constant annoyance? It hurt too much to think about. Sitting there holding Stiles in his arms, he knew the boy was about to speak and he knew what he was going to say. And it broke his heart.

"Sourwolf, you and me both know I'm not making it through this one," Stiles said with a small smile on his face. That's all he could do was comfort Derek. Comfort his big, sobbing sourwolf that held him. He knew Derek was a big softie secretly. Stiles was coughing now as it was beginning to get harder to breathe. Derek was crying now and not just tears welling in his eyes. Now they were falling down his face like little salty droplets of rain. "No, you can't die. Please. Please hold on. I can't let you die. You're Stiles. My Stiles. The annoying bumbling idiot. The boy who took on the Nogitsune and won. Please. I can't let this happen. Please..." Derek begged him while more tears slid down his face and fell.

"Sorry, but I think this is where I say goodbye. But hey, Derek we had a good run, didn't we? Team Werewolf for the win, right? I wouldn't have traded it for anything else. All that boring homework? Fuck it. Scott and I headed out for an adventure that night and we got one. We did it. We had an adventure. Thank you. Thank you for being my sourwolf." Stiles smiled even though his chest was tightening more and more every minute. It wasn't long now. But that was okay. He was ready. He had fallen over and tried again and again and this time he had gotten it right. He had gotten everything right. He had loved them all and now it was time to give up.

"I can't leave you. Stiles, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't get here in time. I'm sorry I'm never good enough." Derek said as he pulled the boy tighter into his arms as his breaths became laboured. Stiles was smiling at him, even though there was blood all over his hands and his skin was now paler than ever. It now made his freckles stand out even more. Like inverse stars against the sky. He was still smiling, looking at Derek with his big brown eyes as words slipped past his lips again. "It's okay. You were more than good enough. Take care of my dad. And tell Lydia not to waste her mascara on me. And tell Scott I'm proud. I'm proud of the wolf he's become. I'm proud of my brother." He said as his breaths had now gone from rapid to slow, deep ones trying to take in as much air as possible.  
>Lying there in that moment Derek was hurt. He was hurt more than any fire could burn him. He felt like his whole world had come down in a matter of seconds. His guts felt like there was a massive weight hanging down on him. There probably was. Now that his little light was lying in his arms and taking its last breaths. His star was burning out and was turning into a blackhole of hurt and pain. And it was agonizing suffering for both of them.<p>

Derek, choking through his tears spoke as softly as he could to Stiles, letting his thoughts spill out of his mouth for the first time in years. "Love you," Derek whispered with a small reassuring smile. Stiles returned it as best he could, faulting in the middle. He was scared but he needed to face it. He needed to swallow it down and hold on to Derek for one last time. "Love you too," Stiles wheezed, holding on just for one minute longer. Derek leaned down, tears still spilling down his face while he was trying his best to smile for Stiles. He leaned down and pressed his lips deeply onto Stiles'. Holding on, he moved as naturally and softly as he could, letting it linger before pulling back and wiping his tears onto the sleeve of his leather jacket. It wasn't a Hollywood kiss, it was sloppy and messy and salty from the tears. Yet it was still perfect. It was still them.

"I finally scored, huh?" Stiles exhaled, grin still in place. Even while dying he had to be cracking a joke. Derek let a small smile onto his face again. "Yeah you did." He groaned. This was Stiles. The same Stiles who set out with his silly best friend to go look for a dead body. He hadn't changed that much. Stiles looked up, straight into Derek's seafoam green eyes and let one last thought flow through his head. _Not a bad way to go Stilinski, not bad_. Finally his breathing slowed down and his eyes gently shut for the last time. Derek felt when his heart stopped. He felt the last drum of his heart beat out. He closed his eyes reeling in pain. Then he let it all out in one utterly recognizable howl. A howl of grief. A howl of loss.

That's when Scott finally stumbled in, after hearing Derek's howl. Glancing round looking for what was wrong he clocked Derek's back and Stiles' legs hanging out from behind him. He saw Derek rocking back and forth clutching Stiles tightly. Scott instantly knew what had happened. He could smell it smothering him like it was going to choke him. Grief and blood. That's when the single tear fell. His eyes and knees gave way after that.


End file.
